


1989

by mandraco



Series: Veritas 'Verse [2]
Category: Smallville, Supernatural
Genre: AU, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-19 18:04:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/576130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandraco/pseuds/mandraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the <a href="http://smallvillebbang.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://smallvillebbang.livejournal.com/"></a><b>smallvillebbang</b>.<br/>After Oliver's parents die, John Winchester (a.k.a. their old friend Edward Teague) gets custody of him. He takes Oliver along with his boys to Smallville in the aftermath of the meteor shower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1989

**Author's Note:**

> Major thanks to [](http://sameuspegasus.livejournal.com/profile)[**sameuspegasus**](http://sameuspegasus.livejournal.com/) for the awesome as always beta. To [](http://sanadafaye.livejournal.com/profile)[**sanadafaye**](http://sanadafaye.livejournal.com/) for the art. And to [](http://twinsarein.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://twinsarein.livejournal.com/)**twinsarein** for running this big bang and being understanding about our lateness. =)
> 
> Blanket spoilers for both shows. More specifically the Smallville Pilot and all the stuff about Veritas and the Traveller in Season 7. And for Supernatural, 1.18 "Something Wicked".

 

  
Dean frowned as he set beans on toast on a plate for Sam. Dad had been on the phone all morning. It had something to do with the newspaper, 'cause he'd had it clenched in his fist ever since he picked it up. He'd promised them they could go out for burgers for lunch, but he looked worried and Dean didn't want to bug him. Sammy would just have to deal.

Dad finally hung up the phone in the middle of the afternoon. He smiled at Dean and Sammy in that way that wasn't smiling. "Hey," he said to them, turning the TV off. Sammy protested, but Dean elbowed him to be quiet. Something important was going on. "How would you two like to go to Metropolis to see Ollie?"

"Ollie?" asked Sammy. He was too young to remember. Dean barely remembered, himself. When he was littler than Sammy, he, Ollie, Patty and Alexander all used to hang out while their parents did boring grown-up stuff. They hadn't done any of that recently. Dad was too busy learning how to kill monsters, and he and Sammy had to go to school. Dean might not remember anything they'd ever done together, but he remembered Ollie. Remembered that there was a time when Ollie wouldn't leave his side for a moment.

A curl of fear worked its way through Dean's stomach. His dad had been talking about something important and dangerous all day. And now he wanted them to see a friend they hadn't seen in years.

"Dad," said Dean, not sure how to ask the questions he wanted to ask. He didn't want Sammy to know the answers. Dad's smile only widened in response and it freaked Dean out a little. Something bad was going on.

"Ollie's an old friend of Dean's," Dad said.

"Dean doesn't have any friends," said Sammy, his brow crinkling with confusion.

"I do so," said Dean. But he knew he didn't. It was hard to make friends when you were always the new kid. Sure, the first day everyone wanted to be his friend, but once they realised he was just as boring as everyone else, they left him alone. Dean didn't often try to make friends because he knew they'd be gone soon anyway. Sammy always made friends and he cried every time they left town. It was better Dean's way.

"So what do you say?" asked Dad. Dean knew it wasn't really a question, they were going to go because Dad wanted to go. That didn't mean that Dean _didn't_ want to see Ollie. He just didn't want to know what horrible thing had happened.

"Sure dad," said Dean.

"What about school?" asked Sammy.

"School will still be there later," said Dad. But Dean already knew that meant they wouldn't be coming back here. Maybe they'd stay in Metropolis with Ollie. That wouldn't be so bad. He liked Ollie. Some half-remembered part of him knew that when he was with Ollie he could be himself. Because he hadn't always been Dean Winchester.

 

  
x x x

  
That night, Sammy was asleep on the backseat. Dean was still awake, in the front seat with his father after they'd been separated for fighting about something Dean no longer remembered.

"You'll have to be careful with Ollie," Dad said, keeping his eyes on the road. Dean looked up at him, seeing the deeper creases near his eyes that meant he was thinking about mom. "He's... He'll be having a tough time. He's just lost his parents."

Yeah, Dean could understand that. "Like mom?"

"I don't think so," said Dad. "But it doesn't matter how it happened. Ollie's going to need you."

"Yes, sir."

 

  
x x x

  
Ollie looked different. Dean had been expecting that, of course. A lot of time had passed since they'd last seen one another, and that last time, Ollie's parents had still been alive. At the boarding school Ollie was attending, Sam and Dean had to wait outside the principal's office while Dad spent ages talking to him. And the whole time Sammy kept asking him questions about boarding school. About going to school and living in the same place the whole year. Dean wanted to tell him how dumb that was because of all the monsters out there, but he couldn't. Sammy wasn't allowed to know about the monsters.

And now Dad was done and Ollie was here. It took Dean a moment see him, because the Ollie Dean remembered wasn't there at all. Dean wondered what kind of monster could suck out Ollie's soul.

"Hey Ollie," Dean said, half-lifting his hand in a wave.

Ollie crossed his arms and pursed his lips. "My name is Oliver."

A feeling of deja vu fell over Dean, but the memories were lost to him.

"Oliver's going to stay with us for a while," Dad said.

"Stay?" said Sammy, dragging out the word and staring up at their father with wide eyes. "But we never _stay_ anywhere."

"Are we going back to Texas?" asked Dean.

"No," said Dad. "I've got a friend I want to check on, first."

 

  
x x x

  
The Winchesters and Ollie spent the night in a hotel in Metropolis. Dean tried to get Ollie to talk to him, or at least answer to "Ollie" but he insisted that his name was Oliver. Sammy, on the other hand, was racing around the hotel, practically climbing out of the balcony and looking at the view of the LuthorCorp building, wondering what it would be like to go right to the top. Dean had to grab him by the ankle a couple of times to prevent him from falling over the edge. All the while Dad was on the phone getting increasingly frustrated.

Ollie didn't eat anything. Dad had let them order room service for dinner and Sammy had prattled on about how since his burger was going to be twice as expensive as the last one he'd had, that had to mean it was twice as big. Dean rolled his eyes but Ollie looked at Sammy as though he was the dumbest thing he'd ever seen. Dean wanted to wipe that superior smirk off his face. No one looked at Sammy like that. But this was Ollie, and that made him almost as good as a brother. Almost. Sort of. Could be.

Dad had forked out for a suite, but there were only two bedrooms and each one only had one queen-sized bed in it. Sammy had giggled when Dean said "Queen" and Ollie locked himself in the bathroom. Dean then spent an hour listening to Sammy whining about how badly he had to go and trying to talk Ollie into unlocking the door. But when Sammy insisted he needed to do a number two as well, Dean went to Dad's duffel, found the lock picking kit and unlocked the door.

Ollie's expression was murderous when the door opened and Sammy ran in. Dean didn't think the other boy would ever forgive him. Dean told himself he should have been okay with that. Ollie wasn't really a friend, no matter what Dad said. They barely knew each other, and Sammy was his baby brother. Ollie wasn't going to get between them.

Sammy slept in Dad's bed that night, and Dean slept on the couch to give Ollie his space. But when he heard Ollie sniffling in the night, he took his pillow and got into the bed next to Ollie, same as he would do for Sam.

Ollie shoved his face into his pillow and pretended to be asleep. Dean let him, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. "'S cold out there," he said.

Ollie didn't say anything, but when Dean woke up the next morning, he had to pry Ollie's fingers from his t-shirt. They both had to deal with Sammy's suspicious staring when he came into the room to wake them up. Sammy grabbed Dean's wrist and dragged him out of the room, not letting him go until breakfast was on the table.

 

  
x x x

  
"Let's go, boys," said Dad, standing up from the breakfast table and dropping his napkin on his plate.

"Where are we going?" asked Sammy.

"To a little town called Smallville," said Dad.

Just one more little town to add to the list.

 

  
x x x

  
Dean, Sammy and Ollie were sharing the backseat of the Impala as Dad drove. Dean was in the middle and both Ollie and Sam were stubbornly staring out the windows and avoiding talking.

"Whoa!" said Sammy, staring up into the sky. "Didja see that, Dean?"

"See what?" asked Dean. The next thing he knew Dad was pulling over.

"It's a meteor shower," said Dad. "Looks like we're not going to be able to make it to Smallville today."

Dad was staring up into the sky, too. But he wasn't entranced the way Sammy was. He was wearing the same face he had when he wasn't sure what kind of monster he was hunting.

 

  
x x x

  
It was two days before they actually got to Smallville. Two days of Dad snapping and grumbling and yelling about swans and queens, tearing apart newspapers as he read them. Two days of Dad drinking himself to sleep and crying over his bottles of scotch. Two days of Ollie trying to run away. Two days of Sammy clinging to his elbow. All Dean wanted to do was to fix everything. And there wasn't a thing he could do for anyone.

The road into Smallville had been torn up in the meteor shower, so they had to leave the Impala behind and take a four wheel drive and it became obvious to Dean that they weren't going to be visiting the town itself.

They took a side road, went through a gate, and drove a long way before they even saw the _castle_ they were visiting. Ollie didn't even look up, but Sammy started asking whether they were visiting King Arthur and would Merlin be there. Dean tuned out Sam's dumb questions and looked at Ollie. The frown he'd been wearing since they'd met had shifted into a pout. Dean had a feeling this might not be the first time they'd been here. A feeling further cemented when his father walked in through the front door as though he owned the place, ignoring the maid who'd opened the door.

"Luthor," Dad called, walking down a long hallway faster than Dean could follow.

Dean frowned, then looked up at the maid who'd answered the door. This was all familiar. He, and Ollie, and maybe even Sam, had been left alone in a house like this before. But there had been more people there.

"I'll show you to Master Alexander's playroom," the maid said.

Ollie snorted. "Of course he still has a playroom."

Dean glanced at Ollie. That was practically the first unsolicited comment Ollie had made since they were reunited, and it was mean. Dean didn't remember much about Ollie, but he remembered how he'd felt around Ollie. It was nothing like the distance he felt like putting between them now.

The playroom looked much as Dean expected of it. Stone walls like the rest of the castle. Stained glass windows. A fireplace they could walk right into. An entire wall devoted to bookshelves. Another covered in fencing foils and other swords. Desks in the centre of the room with a globe and everything a budding cartographer would require.

"Wow," said Sammy, running immediately to the bookshelves and running his fingers along the spines.

"Don't touch those, Sammy," said Dean. "They're Alexander's."

Sammy drew his finger back immediately, but it didn't stop him from gazing at the titles. "Who's Alexander?"

"Just another whiny spoilt brat," said Ollie, settling into the largest chair in the room and putting his feet up on the desk. "Like you."

"Ollie!" said Dean. "Put your feet down."

Ollie crossed his arms and stared down Dean. "Make me," he said.

Dean could do that. He was bigger than Ollie. Sure he only had a couple inches on him but he was older too, and Ollie didn't look like he ever had training sessions with his dad.

Dean pushed Ollie's legs aside, but Ollie was quickly on his feet, fists up and daring Dean to make a move.

"Hi," Dean heard Sammy say and he realised his brother was paying them absolutely no attention.

Dean turned. There was a boy standing in the doorway, standing straight and tall and looking at Sam as though he was some scientific specimen. It took a moment for Dean's brain to catch up with his eyes and realise that it was strange for a child to be perfectly bald.

Behind him, Ollie was just as distracted by the sight, laughing so hard he almost fell over. It should have been a pleasant sound, as Ollie had been so depressed since he'd met up with the Winchesters, but it was cold and as ugly as the expression crossing the bald boy's face. It was Alexander, it had to be. But Alexander had had hair the last time Dean had seen him.

Sammy, of course, had no self-restraint and asked the question he wanted to know the answer to. "How come you've got no hair?"

Dean didn't want to have to deal with whatever rude comment was going to come out of Alexander's mouth next. He'd had to deal with a grouchy Sammy and a sullen Ollie for the past three days. He wasn't going to add an angry Alexander to the list.

"You don't have to answer that, Alexander," Dean said. "Sammy's just being nosy."

"Being here made it fall out," snapped Alexander. "Careful, it'll happen to you, next."

Sammy's jaw dropped in horrified fascination, torn between wanting and worrying. He touched his fingers to the locks by his ear, checking to see if they were still there.

"It'd be a good look for you, Sammy," said Dean. "You'd look like a bird's egg instead of a bird's nest."

Sammy looked thoughtful.

Ollie rolled his eyes and put his feet back up on the desk.

"Get your feet off my desk, Queen," said Alexander.

"Make me, Luthor."

"Oliver," said Dean. "You're being ridiculous."

"Oh I am, am I?" Ollie got up and pushed Dean back a step. Sammy was immediately at Dean's side, ready to back him up in a fight.

"Sam, no," said Dean, pushing his brother back with an arm.

"Oh come on, _Winchester_ , you've been on me ever since we met up."

"Me? All I've been doing is trying not to upset you."

"Boys!" Dad's bark had Dean automatically snapping to attention. Ollie didn't do the same, but he crossed his arms and looked away from Dean. Dad's eyes fixed on Dean's. "You know better than that, Dean."

"Sorry, sir," he said.

Dean finally noticed that his dad hadn't come into the room alone. A man about his dad's age with a a lion's mane of dark hair and a beard was standing with him. Uncle Lionel.

"Hello boys," said Uncle Lionel. He looked at each boy in turn the way Dean hated to be scrutinised. Like he could see through Dean Winchester. Dean wasn't dumb enough to forget that Uncle Lionel remembered. But because he did, Uncle Lionel was one of the few people in the world Dad could trust with everything.

"Hi Uncle Lionel," said Dean. Sammy echoed his brother's greeting, though he had no recollection of the man.

"Mister Luthor," Ollie all but spat.

"I know it's been a while since we last met, but I would appreciate it if you'd call me Uncle Lionel. I think we're going to be getting to know each other much better over the next little while."

"Are we staying?" Dean addressed his question to his father.

"Just for a little while." Dean knew that meant his father was going to go away on a hunt. Usually Dean didn't mind. But staying with Uncle Lionel and Alexander and Ollie was a far cry from the lonely old ladies who usually looked in on him and Sam. There was already something too familiar about this place, it felt equal parts inviting and repulsive. "We can talk about that later. Right now it's time to get dressed for dinner."

Sammy's forehead wrinkled. "But we are dressed."

"Cleaned up, then," said Dad. He jerked his head back. "Let's go."

There was a butler who showed them to their rooms. And they each had their own room. Dad's was at the end of the hall and Dean and his brother had rooms halfway down the hallway, directly opposite each other. Ollie's was beside Dean's. Dean thought it was like having a motel room to himself. There was a huge bed (but just the one). A closet and a dresser in which someone had emptied the contents of his duffel (minus the weaponry). And a door leading a to a bathroom just for him to use.

Dean was used to blending in. So when Dad said he needed to get ready for dinner, he knew that meant wearing a plain button down shirt (and buttoning it) and swapping his sneakers for the leather shoes he wore to school. Sammy, on the other hand, had no real idea what other people were like beyond what he saw on the television. Dean figured he'd washed his hands and maybe his face and that was all. The t-shirt he was wearing had a hole in the hem.

"You need to change," said Dean. "We're going to be late."

"What's wrong with this?" asked Sammy.

"Nothing if we're going to eat take-out from the boxes while sitting in front of the TV," said Dean. "But we're going to sit at an actual table with actual silverware and it's polite to dress up for your hosts."

"Hosts?"

"The Luthors," said Dean.

Sammy pouted, but went back inside his room. Dean rifled through Sammy's wardrobe to find his best shirt and his pair of khakis.

"You're not wearing khaki pants," Sam accused.

"Well I don't have any," said Dean.

Sammy grumbled and whined, but when Dad came to get them, he was ready. They were late anyway, though, because Ollie decided it would be a good idea to steal one of Dean's t-shirts and go barefoot. Dad had a few words for him that were kinder than any Dean would have gotten in the same circumstance. Defiant as he was, even Ollie didn't disobey a direct order from John Winchester. He emerged from his room spit-shined from his hair to his shoes in under five minutes.

Dean was distracted by the scuff marks on the sides of his own shoes as they walked to dinner. "Do you think if I leave my shoes beside my door someone will shine them?"

"This isn't a hotel," said Dad.

That wasn't a no.

 

  
x x x

  
Dinner wasn't as bad as it could have been, but it still wasn't exactly comfortable. Aunt Lillian was stuck in Metropolis, so it was just Uncle Lionel and Dad and the boys. If this was Uncle Bobby's or Pastor Jim's, there'd be awkward talk about sports that no one watched regularly, and Sammy would fill in the gaps with a long monologue about whatever the hell he'd last watched on PBS.

Here, Uncle Lionel wanted to talk about how Alexander was doing in school. Ollie thought that meant discussing things that had happened while they were at school that had nothing to do with academics and more to do with Ollie besting Alexander in gym or how Alexander once ate something some other kid dropped on the ground.

Sammy still tried to get in on the conversation but instead of recounting all the ways in which Tom was better than Jerry, he asked questions about the castle. Strangely, it didn't bug Uncle Lionel. He liked telling stories about the castle's long and bloody history. Dean couldn't help being interested himself. Though he was more interested in whether the ghost of Lucius Luthor was still haunting the place.

Dad was quiet through most of dinner and Dean knew that meant he was busy thinking about something. Dean hoped Dad would tell him. He couldn't help if he didn't know what was going on.

 

  
x x x

  
After dinner, Dad took Sammy and Dean into his room to talk before bed.

"I'll be gone a week," said Dad. "I don't want to hear any complaints from Lionel or anyone else while I'm gone, you hear?"

"Yes sir," chorused Sam and Dean.

Dean wasn't sure what kind of trouble they'd be getting into, anyway. This place was so weird.

"I need you to take care of Ollie," Dad said specifically to Dean. Sammy pouted. "You know what it's like to lose a mother." Dad's breath hitched and he cleared his throat before he continued. "And Oliver's lost both his parents, so I need you to make sure he's doing okay."

"Yes, sir," said Dean. He wasn't going to leave Ollie to the wolves. But he couldn't help Ollie much if the guy was never going to listen to him.

"Do you have to go?" asked Sammy.

"Yeah," said Dad. "But it will be more fun here than at school, right? And you've got Ollie and Alexander to keep you company."

Sammy frowned. He already knew that boys Dean's age didn't much like it when he tagged along. Most of the time they were only with Dean because they were stupid enough to think he was 'cool'.

"What about the ants?" asked Dean. He was referring to the salt they used as supernatural protection, but Sammy didn't know about that.

"You'll be fine here," said Dad. "Lionel knows all about the things that could be harmful. You won't run into anything as long as you stay inside the house."

Dean nodded. Too bad that must mean that Lucius Luthor's ghost was long gone. It would have been fun to hunt something himself for a change. Dad never let them have any fun.

"Any more questions?" asked Dad. "You know you can always call Pastor Jim or Uncle Bobby if you need to get in touch with me. The phones in your rooms should work."

Dean nodded. The Luthors were rich. He'd never seen so many phones in one house before. There was even one in the dining room. Uncle Lionel must be expecting phone calls all the time.

"Can I watch TV now?" Sammy asked. "There's a movie I wanted to watch."

Dean knew it was one about mummies.

Dad laughed. "Okay," he said. "But brush your teeth and change into your pyjamas, first. I don't want you falling asleep watching that in those clothes."

Sammy nodded. "Okay, Daddy." He hugged his father and left the room.

"Dean," said Dad as Dean went to follow him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Do you remember what I told you about Uncle Lionel after your mother died?"

There wasn't much Dean remembered from the immediate aftermath of the fire that killed his mother, but his dad's words were one of them. "You can trust him, but I shouldn't."

"I think he's hiding something," said Dad. "That doesn't mean I want you looking for it. Just be alert."

Dean nodded. He wondered what secret Uncle Lionel could possibly be hiding. "I will."

Dad hugged him, though Dean thought he was getting too old for that kind of thing. "Look after your brother."

"Yes, sir."

 

  
x x x

  
Dad left before Dean got up the next morning. Dean had to wrestle Sammy out of his bed when he refused to get up. He'd been watching cartoons in bed and was so engrossed that Dean wondered if he'd slept at all. Breakfast was always a less formal affair than dinner was, so Dean let Sammy wear whatever the hell he wanted to.

When they got to the table for breakfast, Dean was surprised to see that Uncle Lionel wasn't present either. Alexander's nanny, Pamela, was watching all four of them and Dean didn't like the idea of being supervised by someone he didn't know. She stared at him and Sammy, devouring them with her eyes. Dean wouldn't be surprised if she tried to kidnap Sammy.

Dean wondered if it had anything to do with Lionel's secrets. The ones he wasn't supposed to be investigating. He figured it probably didn't, but Dean was keeping an eye on her anyway. Better safe than sorry.

After breakfast, Alexander had to go to see the specialist and Pamela made them stay in Alexander's playroom. Alexander didn't have a television in his playroom, so Dean was immediately bored. Sammy excitedly started looking through Alexander's books and Dean was coerced into reading Treasure Island with him. There were still a lot of words that Sammy didn't know and Dean didn't want Pamela sitting right next to Sammy and reading with him. The book was okay, but Dean would rather be outside, practising shooting monsters with the .45 his dad had given him.

Ollie spent the day playing with Alexander's fencing foils. Dean watched him go through several stances and kind of wished he could do that, too. But that wasn't the kind of fighting that Dad would ever approve of him learning. Ghosts and monsters weren't going to follow the rules of fencing. They weren't going to stop and parry his blows. They were more likely to avoid the swords entirely and drop a piano on his head. It was cool, though, to see Ollie doing the kind of sword-fighting that he and Sammy were reading about. Dean would never admit, that, though. He was just pleased that Ollie wasn't going around doing something stupid like breaking everything Alexander owned. That would not be cool.

 

  
x x x

  
That night, Dean was getting ready for bed when Sammy walked into the room without preamble.

"I'm pretty sure I taught you to knock," Dean said. Sammy used to wander into the bathroom whenever Dean was in there, no matter what he was doing, and Dad never let them lock the door just in case something happened. Dean thought that was silly because his dad knew how to pick locks, but he figured Dad just knew something that he didn't.

"Can I sleep in here tonight?" Sammy asked, pouting up at his brother with puppy dog eyes.

The kid should have known better than to ask for something after he'd just pissed off his brother. He probably thought there was no way that Dean would refuse him.

"No," Dean said, turning his back on his brother.

"Please?" begged Sammy. "I don't want to go back to my room. It's too big and the bed is too cold."

"So use the thermostat," said Dean, nodding at the control panel beside the door.

"De-ean! Daddy's not here. And we _always_ share a bed."

Dean never wanted to do that. Sammy was a bed hog. For such a little guy he always managed to be everywhere on the bed at once, including on top of Dean, bearing down on him like an anvil. It was kind of amazing and annoying at the same time. "That's 'cause Dad always wants us to share a room for protection. But we're safe anywhere here."

"How can you say that?" asked Sammy. "This castle gives me the creeps."

"Yeah, well, it's not like it's full of monsters. It's full of history. You love that old crap."

"I'll sneak in while you're asleep."

"I'll lock the door."

A tear started to leak out of Sammy's eye. Dean resolutely did not look at his brother. Not even when the kid sniffed. He wasn't going to fall for any of that.

"I need you," said Sammy.

Dean groaned. He hated himself. Only he would ever be dumb enough to fall for Sammy at this moment. Dad would just pick him up and toss him back onto his bed. Sammy was too big to be manhandled by Dean at this point. But one day Dean would be as big as dad and he'd be able to do it again. Sammy was always going to be his little brother.

"Fine, you can stay," said Dean.

"Yes!" Sammy pumped his fists.

"But," said Dean, before Sammy could get too excited. "I'm not sharing a bed with you. You always end up on top of me and it's seriously uncomfortable."

Sammy pouted. "Fine."

Sammy went and got a pillow and a blanket, and curled up on the armchair in Dean's room. Dean went to sleep.

When Dean woke up in the middle of the night with Sammy sprawled on top of him, he pushed his brother off the bed. Sammy pouted, but cranky, sleep-deprived Dean was a lot better at standing up to his brother.

 

  
x x x

  
The next night, when Dean went back to his room, there were two beds squashed inside it. Dean had no idea how Sammy had done it. He hadn't let that kid out of his sight for a second all day.

 

  
x x x

  
Three days after Dad left, Dean realised that he never saw Uncle Lionel. Sometimes Alexander would complain about something his dad had said, and sometimes Pamela had something new to tell them not to do, but Dean and Sammy and Ollie hadn't seen Uncle Lionel since dinner that first night.

Ollie didn't care. He was certain that Uncle Lionel secretly did things like kidnap and eat children, or poison woodland creatures. Dean personally thought that Ollie read too many fairytales. Dean certainly didn't read anything with a happy ending if he could help it... which meant he hardly read anything at all. He liked TV a lot more because of that. Sure at the end of the half hour the mystery would be over, but there'd be another one the next day, so you never knew how it was going to end.

Sammy didn't care that Uncle Lionel was never around. Uncle Lionel wasn't really a person to him, more like a creature of myth. Just some guy who hung around doing and saying things that he didn't understand or care about. Sammy liked that he wasn't around because it meant he could spend all his time wondering where Uncle Lionel was and crawling through the entire house looking for him. (Sammy always insisted that crawling was sneakier than plain old walking, but Dean was too proud to crawl now that he knew how to walk.)

 

  
x x x

  
Four bored boys in one house were eventually going to have to find something to do together. It didn't matter that the house was huge or that they didn't have much in common or that they'd rather spend time by themselves. There was one game they all managed to enjoy playing. The name of the game was Ditch Pamela.

Pamela was okay the first couple of days, but she also thought that the boys didn't need anything that wasn't available in Lex's playroom. She didn't like that they wanted to watch TV or run around outside and generally just be boys. It was Dean who started ditching her and Ollie who turned it into a competition. There was no official point-scoring or anything like that, but at dinner time, whoever had spent the least amount of time in Pamela's presence that day sat triumphantly at the head of the table where Uncle Lionel would have sat if he'd bothered to show up. (Dean didn't know where or when the man ate.)

Alexander was not particularly good at the game. Pamela knew all of his tricks. Not even feigning lingering sickness could help after the latest doctor told her that there was nothing he could pinpoint that was actually wrong with Alexander, despite the spontaneous hair loss. He got crankier each time he failed to sit at the head of the table. Sammy wasn't any better. Pamela kept more of an eye on him simply because he was the youngest. She was also more likely to dissect his need to escape for a bathroom break or a snack.

The real contenders in the game were Ollie and Dean. Ollie had played this game his entire life (though Dean suspected that after he evaded his nanny, he'd end up right at his parents' sides). He was good at finding places to hide that didn't seem like hiding places. Sometimes he just stood very still and Pamela didn't see him even though it was obvious to Dean that he was right there.

Dean was better at tricking Pamela. He'd make her think he was helping her look for one of the other boys, and then would take off the second her back was turned. He was fast and quiet, things Dad had been trying to train him to be ever since he started hunting monsters. And she never realised just how far away he could get. She always expected him to be nearby, so looked for him close by for long periods of time before realising she needed to take off for the other side of the house.

But Pamela was good at playing the game, too. The rules, though unspoken, were clear that they boys couldn't outright disobey anything that Pamela told them to do (but they never had to give her a straight answer to any of her questions), and so she put them to work watching each other, so that there was never a time when she had more than two boys out of her sight at any time.

By the sixth day, though, the boys were onto her tricks. Whoever was first to escape her automatically won the game, and the four of them roamed the hallways separately from each other, free of their guardian the rest of the day.

Once they'd all escaped Pamela's supervision, Dean was deciding whether hanging out with Sammy was preferable to sneaking outside and maybe teasing the horses in the stables. And for the first time in almost a week, Dean heard Uncle Lionel's voice. A glance in that direction revealed Ollie standing by a cracked door spying on Uncle Lionel's conversation.

Without saying a word, Dean and Sammy joined him. Ollie scowled at them, but couldn't say anything because he'd be caught spying just as easily as them.

Lionel was talking to a red-haired woman. She wasn't dressed as fancily as Uncle Lionel, and Dean figured she probably worked on one of the farms nearby. There wasn't much in Smallville besides the castle and some farms. Dean had the idea that there was a very tiny strip of stores somewhere, but they hadn't been able to see it yet because of the meteor shower.

"I need your help with an adoption," she was saying.

Boring. Whatever Uncle Lionel's secret was, Dad wasn't going to care that he was talking to some woman about adopting a kid. Even if Dean had no idea that Uncle Lionel worked with social services or whoever it was that handled adoptions. He wasn't sure what Uncle Lionel did, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with machines and not people. Dean wondered what had Ollie so interested in the conversation and figured it was probably just that none of them had seen Uncle Lionel since they'd got there.

"What are you looking at?" Alexander asked, coming up behind them. He'd probably specifically been looking for them, too bored by his own house to entertain himself. Even if Alexander insisted it wasn't his real house because he lived in Metropolis where his mother was.

Ollie darted one last glance into the room before stepping away. "Shh!" he said. "Your dad's in there."

Alexander's eyes widened and he peered through the crack to see Uncle Lionel realise they were there and lead the woman away. "That's not very interesting. Dad's always doing business with someone."

"They were talking about adopting kids," said Ollie.

"What, like you?" asked Alexander.

The way Ollie's lips curled made Dean realise that was what had made Ollie stop to listen. He was afraid he'd be given away.

"Ollie's staying with us," Dean said. "Dad said so."

Alexander shrugged. "Your dad doesn't look like he's got much money. He'd probably sell Oliver if he could get away with it."

"That's a lie," said Sammy, outraged on their father's behalf.

"Shows how much you know," said Dean.

Alexander's eyes focused on Dean. "What don't I know?"

"Plenty," said Dean. "But right now I'd rather you showed me where the stables are."

Alexander frowned, but was sufficiently distracted. "You're not allowed to ride my horses," he said, even as he walked away, forgetting all about his father.

 

  
x x x

  
On the seventh day, Sammy would not be budged from the front door, waiting for their dad to come back. Dean thought it was stupid. Sure there wasn't a lot to do in the Luthor mansion, but Sammy should have known by now that even if Dad truly believed he was going to be back in time, there was an equal chance that whatever he was busy doing was going to take longer than he thought it would. But Sammy didn't know that it was because people needed to be saved and it always just upset him when Dad didn't keep his promises (never mind that Dad never actually said 'I promise').

After dinner, Sammy gave up and locked himself in his bedroom. That was stupid since it didn't even have a bed in it anymore, but Sammy wasn't exactly logical about things most days.

On the eighth day of their stay in the Luthor castle, Pamela told them their dad had called and that he'd be delayed at least another week. Dean took that to mean that he was still working the same case. So, even though Sammy pouted, it made Dean feel better because if Dad could finish the case faster than he expected, it meant he could be home earlier... or as close to home as they ever got. He was kind of annoyed that Pamela hadn't let them speak to him, though. Maybe Alexander never wanted to talk to his dad, but Dean loved his.

But because their stay had been extended, Sammy started making noises about school. (God forbid he actually use words to express himself.) He missed being at school with other kids. Dean couldn't care less about them, and kind of preferred being here. Unfortunately, Uncle Lionel had the same idea for Alexander, and so the next Monday, they found themselves at separate desks in Alexander's playroom, with a man in front of them ostensibly trying to teach them things.

Alexander, Ollie and Dean were sharing a tutor. Even though Dean was a year older than Ollie and was a grade above him, Uncle Lionel figured the tutor should be able to keep up. Ollie was a few months older than Alexander, and that meant that Alexander was meant to be in the grade below, but he'd started school with first grade and skipped kindergarten entirely, so they were in the same grade at school. Privately, Dean thought the tutor was just meant to teach him the same things as Ollie and Alexander because Uncle Lionel thought he was stupid. Dean wasn't stupid. They just moved schools so often there wasn't much point in trying too hard to keep up when he'd be learning something different in the next school.

Sammy had a tutor of his own. Dean didn't trust anyone he didn't know alone with Sammy, but they shared the same room so he figured he'd let it go. The older boys' tutor was a man by the name of Dennis Foster. He let them call him Dennis and seemed intent on teaching them everything about world history and Latin and not so much about mathematics. That wasn't the sort of thing that could hold Dean's interest and he spent of the time in class wondering about monsters and how many of the tangential stories Dennis mentioned about religions and beliefs were true. He figured it wasn't many.

The good thing about having tutoring was that Pamela was around less. They didn't have to deal with her at all during their lessons, and once those were done for the day, she didn't think they needed to stay in the same room the rest of the day, and let them explore the castle without supervision. But even free reign of the castle and minds exercised still gave the boys long moments of boredom that turned into adventure.

 

  
x x x

  
It was on one of these post-tutoring adventures that Alexander discovered that there was another boy staying in the house with them. Of course, being Alexander, he couldn't just let the rest of them in on that secret. Instead he lured Sammy away with promises of monsters. Knowing that the idea of any monster being in the Luthor castle was ridiculous, Dean had to go to save his brother, and Ollie followed because as solitary as he was, he never liked being alone.

Then Alexander locked Dean, Sammy and Ollie in a room with a boy they'd never seen before.

"Hi," Sammy greeted the strange boy, while Dean kept looking for another exit. Uncle Lionel's secret was suddenly looking very, very strange. Dean knew there were reasons why men sometimes kept boys in their houses, but he couldn't imagine that that was what Uncle Lionel wanted with this particular boy. "What's your name?"

The boy didn't respond. He looked about Sammy's age, maybe younger. And what Dean couldn't figure out was why Alexander had locked them all in the room together. The boy didn't seem dangerous.

"I'm Sam," said Sammy. "But everyone calls me Sammy. It's a nickname. Do you have a nickname?"

"Seriously?" said Ollie, looking at Dean and ignoring the younger boys. "This is dumb." He walked over to the door and knocked on it. "Alexander let us out!"

The boy didn't say anything and it was all rather boring. Sammy continued to try to befriend him, but then Uncle Lionel came home from wherever he'd been and Alexander quickly let them out so that they wouldn't get into trouble. Sam complained that they couldn't just leave the boy in the room, but Dean silenced him with a kick to the ankle.

"Why do you think there's a boy in the house?" Dean asked Alexander.

Alexander shrugged. "I think maybe my father brought him here before he knew you were going to be here."

It was as good an explanation as any, but didn't stop Sammy going to visit the boy again.

Sammy, however, couldn't keep his mouth shut. When they had dinner with Uncle Lionel for the first time since they'd arrived (wearing silk shirts that had miraculously appeared in the right sizes in their closets), Sammy asked him flat out what he was doing keeping a boy who didn't talk.

Uncle Lionel had looked at all four boys as though wondering what sort of trouble they could get up to and how much they knew.

"I'm helping him get adopted," Uncle Lionel said. "I thought it would be nicer for him to stay here than at an orphanage."

"Then why can't he play with us?" asked Sammy.

"I don't want him to get too attached," said Uncle Lionel. "He's going to have to leave soon."

"Oh," said Sammy. That was enough explanation for Dean. He didn't need to hear or see anything more about the boy.

Dean followed Sam to see the nameless boy once or twice more. And then a week later (past the next deadline for Dad's return), the boy was gone. They didn't see Uncle Lionel for a long time after that, so they couldn't ask where he'd gone, but Dean assumed he'd been adopted and was just glad that the boy had somewhere else to go and something better to do than hang out with them. Their life was weird.

 

  
x x x

  
It was the last week of October when Dad finally came back. The funny thing was that now that Dad was back, he didn't say anything about moving on or leaving. Dean had stayed pretty much packed ever since the first week, but now Dad was back and acting like this was his home or something.

And by home, Dean meant Dad had locked himself in his room with several bottles of alcohol. Dean knew to keep Sammy away from him when he was like this, but it always sucked. Usually Dean distracted Sammy with something Halloween themed, but they couldn't even go to the video store to get his favourite Halloween movies because there wasn't one in Smallville and Metropolis was too far away and trick-or-treating itself was forbidden because Pamela thought it was too dangerous. Dad did too, when he was awake enough to pay attention. Halloween was one night when monsters could go outside and people wouldn't think that what they were seeing was real.

Pamela did try to make up for it, though. She found a bunch of old clothes in the house and told them they could make costumes to wear when they answered to whoever came trick-or-treating. Sammy spent his time trying to figure out which Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle he wanted to dress up as. Dean's favourite was Michaelangelo because he was the most fun. Alexander's was Donatello. He said it was because he was the smartest, but Dean thought it was because Alexander's favourite colour was purple, girly as that was. Ollie liked them all equally. Sammy could never make up his mind. In the end he decided on Donatello because there was a large handkerchief in exactly the right shade of blue that he could use for the mask.

Sammy was the only one who took Pamela's suggestion to heart. Dean thought he was too old for costumes. Ollie didn't like the idea of making his own costume from Luthor leftovers. Alexander didn't give a reason for not preparing a costume. But when nine o'clock at night went without a single knock on the door or a ring of the doorbell, Dean figured that was explanation enough.

Not going trick-or-treating didn't mean missing out on candy, though. Each boy had a bucketful sitting by his place at the lunch table, and since they hadn't been consulted on the contents, they spent the afternoon bartering for their favourites.

But even the piles of candy that arrived on Halloween couldn't make up for the fact that Dad still locked himself in his room for another two days, and on the third day he announced that he was leaving again.

"Why can't we go with you?" Dean asked, though it was usually Sammy who asked the question. Dean couldn't help thinking that Dad was getting too comfortable letting someone else look after his children. He didn't want to end up like Ollie and Alexander, shunted off to boarding school because their fathers thought work was more important than they were. And sure, hunting monsters was more important than whatever Uncle Lionel and Uncle Robert did, but Dad was still their dad. Their only dad. There were other monster hunters.

"I'll only be gone a short while," said Dad. "It won't be forever." He looked Dean straight in the eyes. "You know I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to."

Dean understood. Really, he did. But he didn't have to like it.

 

  
Outside of meals and tutoring, the four boys were still rarely in the same room together. Sammy liked to monopolise Dean's time, and tried to get him away from both Ollie and Alexander whenever he could. While trying to escape Sam's clutches, Dean spent some time by himself, always on the move so that he'd be harder to track down. That meant that Dean usually ended up running into either Ollie or Alexander by accident. As good at hiding as Dean was, he was yet to find the place he could go where Sammy wouldn't be able to find him.  
  
It was kind of freeing, in a way, the fact that Dean could leave Sammy alone for long periods of time without wondering if something was going wrong. Even though Dad was rarely around (he'd sometimes stop by for a day or two every week or so), Dean didn't need to worry about what Sammy was going to eat for dinner or breakfast. He could think about himself.  
  
But Dean didn't exactly like to think about himself. If he thought too much he ended up getting bogged down in his emotions. He started to hate himself and everyone around him. It was easier not to think. And if he had to think, it was better to do it around other people.  
  
On one of his jaunts around the castle, Dean ran into Alexander. Alexander's moods were often more turbulent than Ollie's despite the fact that the other boy was still grieving the loss of his parents. As Dean watched Alexander run his hands over his bald scalp over and over again, Dean realised that in a way, Alexander had some grieving of his own. So Dean, as strongly opposed to talking about feelings as he was, couldn't help but go to sit with him. Though Dean wouldn't exactly call Alexander a friend, that didn't mean he wanted Alexander to feel bad.  
  
Without saying a word, Dean sat beside Alexander on the bottom stair. A mirror hung facing them in an attempt to bring light into an otherwise dark alcove. While waiting for Alexander to say something, Dean compared their reflections in the mirror. Though Dean didn't have much hair, and what he did have was light, it was amazing how alien the lack of hair made Alexander look.  
  
"It's not going to grow back," Alexander said after a moment of silence.  
  
Dean didn't know what to say to that. If Alexander had shaved or waxed his head, hair should have started to grow back by now. Alexander's head was still as bald as it was the day of the meteor shower.  
  
"No one ever said it wouldn't," said Alexander. "But I'm going to be a freak for the rest of my life."  
  
"You don't have to be," said Dean. "Your dad's rich. Don't you think they've got ways of making you grow hair?"  
  
"But it's not going to be my hair," said Alexander. "I'm never going to have my own hair again."  
  
Dean couldn't argue with that so he stayed quiet.  
  
"I didn't even like my hair. It was so red and curly."  
  
Dean remembered. He'd kind of envied it because his hair was boring. And he hated being so blond. It was such a girly colour. "It was interesting," said Dean. "And now it's more interesting."  
  
"Yeah," said Alexander. "Like I said, freakish."  
  
"Just because it's different or strange doesn't mean it can't be awesome," said Dean, feeling like an after school special. "It's about how you look at it."  
  
Alexander didn't look at Dean, but the elder boy could see his sceptical reflection.  
  
Dean looked up at the ceiling, so far away from where they were. "There's nothing freakish about me, but you think I'm a freak anyway, don't you?"  
  
The corner of Alexander's mouth tilted up on its way to becoming a smile. "You are a freak."  
  
Dean leaned back on his elbows. "At least I've got eyebrows."  
  
Alexander elbowed him right between the ribs. "I've still got elbows."  
  
Dean rubbed the sore spot. "That you do."

  
x x x

  
Sammy must have been better than Dean realised at tracking him because when Dean went to drag him to breakfast the next morning, Dean found him in his bathroom shaving his head. Half his brown hair had fallen into the sink or was strewn across his shoulders. There were tiny trails of blood across Sam's scalp where he'd brought the razor too close to the skin.  
  
"Dad's going to kill you," Dean said, carefully tugging the razor from Sammy's grasp.  
  
Sammy pouted. "It's not like hair's important."  
  
"No," said Dean. It wasn't. But it was useful for letting you blend in with other people. And given that winter was coming, it was probably a good idea to let it keep your head warm. "But I doubt he's going to appreciate the cuts on your head."  
  
Dean grabbed some toilet paper and carefully pressed it to his brother's head, stemming the bloodflow and wiping away the blood. When Sam's head was clean, Dean eyed him in the mirror. His once mop-like hair was a patchwork of pieces of varying lengths, leaving bald patches and others as long as his fingers. There was no way it would eventually even out without assistance.  
  
"Pamela's been telling me I need a haircut ever since we got here," said Sammy as though shaving his head was the logical conclusion to draw.  
  
"I think she was going to call a barber to come here," said Dean.  
  
Sammy crinkled his nose. "The people in this house are so weird."  
  
"Yeah," said Dean. "Including you."  
  
Sammy pouted. "Let me finish it."  
  
"No," said Dean, holding the razor away. If Sammy did it, he'd probably end up slicing both his ears off. "Hold still," he said. "I'll finish it for you."  
  
Dean found some hair scissors under the sink. He suspected they were part of some kind of beard maintenance kit, and that's where Sammy had gotten the razor. He didn't suppose the Luthors often had kids staying as guests. Dean cut away the longer parts of Sammy's hair, then finished the job with the razor. Sammy's head wasn't quite as smooth and shiny as Alexander's, and he still had his eyebrows, but Dean figured it would do.  
  
Sammy grinned when Dean was done. "I think it looks cool."  
  
"You would," said Dean with a roll of his eyes.  
  
Sammy looked up at his brother. "Your hair's not that long," he said.  
  
It was true. Dean wouldn't need to use the scissors on it. And if Sammy was going to get into trouble for shaving his head, Dean might as well take his share of the blame. Sure he couldn't have predicted what Sammy was going to do, but he helped him out instead of stopping him.  
  
Dean groaned and dragged the razor across his head. "Hey, what do you think Ollie would look like bald?" Dean asked Sammy.  
  
The kid was running out of the room before Dean could finish.

  
x x x

  
When Alexander saw the three newly shaven heads at the breakfast table, Dean could tell he was trying hard not to smile. As it was, he couldn't help a snort from escaping his nose.  
  
"I guess we do kind of look like pigs," said Dean.  
  
Pamela shrieked and immediately started trying to call their Dad. Dean just ate his breakfast.

  
x x x

  
Ollie's breaking point came more violently than Alexander's. It made sense when Dean stopped to think about it. His loss was greater. Dean had stopped worrying that Ollie was going to break everything in the Luthor castle after a week of staying there. But it turned out that that was premature. Four weeks after they arrived, Ollie refused to go to tutoring. He refused to eat. And when Pamela tried to get him to at least change out of his pyjamas, he threw a very expensive vase at her head. Uncle Lionel was not going to like that.  
  
But Dean was more worried that Ollie was going to lash out at Sammy next. The kid hadn't exactly been endearing himself to Ollie and they got into stupid arguments all the time, both of them always expecting Dean to take his side. There was no way that Dean ever wanted to get in the middle of the two of them. It would be suicide.  
  
When Dean checked the date on the calendar in his room, he realised it was the one month anniversary of the day Ollie's parents had died. Ollie had insisted that they hadn't died in the plane, and that the search parties would find them soon. But Dad was sure they were dead, he'd seen the caskets and pictures of the bodies when they were taken back to Star City for the funeral. Ollie had refused to go, and Dad hadn't made him. Today, it looked like Ollie was finally going to believe that they weren't coming back.  
  
"I hate it here!" Ollie yelled, before tearing out of the house and running straight out the front door. The guards at the gate weren't dumb enough to let Ollie out, though, so he was in the middle of screaming at the guy holding him by the shoulders when Dean caught up to him. "I hate you!" Ollie yelled at Dean when he told the guard to let him go.  
  
"I hate you, too," said Dean, putting none of the same feeling into the words.  
  
Ollie started walking parallel to the fence. Dean wondered if he was looking for a way to leave or just trying to get away from Dean.  
  
"I know it sucks," said Dean. "But there's nothing you can do about it."  
  
"You don't know anything!"  
  
"I know what it's like to lose a mom," said Dean. "And I can imagine that losing your dad too must be even worse."  
  
Ollie sneered, the expression twisting his usually pleasant face into something obscene. "You don't know anything."  
  
"Do you remember?" Dean asked. "When my mom died?" It wasn't likely that Ollie did. He was a year younger than Dean. There wasn't much that Dean remembered from that year. Dean doubted that Ollie would have cause to remember anything that happened.  
  
"I remember everything," said Ollie, looking right into Dean's eyes.  
  
Dean couldn't help the smile that tilted the corners of his mouth, even as he accepted that this wasn't a happy conversation. "You were the best thing that happened to me that day," said Dean. "And I know I can't be nearly as good to you as you were for me, but please, I just want you to be okay."  
  
"I _am_ okay," said Ollie.  
  
"You're hurting," said Dean.  
  
"You're hurting, too, Jason," said Ollie.  
  
Dean quickly looked around to make sure that no one could hear Ollie utter the name he was never supposed to remember. "Can we just--" Dean sucked in a deep breath to avoid letting his tears fall. "Whatever comes next can we do it together?"  
  
Ollie reached out, and Dean grabbed him in a hug.  
  
"I don't ever want to be alone," said Ollie.  
  
Dean couldn't say that everything was better after that, but things were better between him and Ollie.

  
x x x

  
It was almost December before Dean and Ollie figured out how to get off the grounds without any of the security guards, Pamela, or other staff members noticing. It involved taking a trip through the gardens, doubling back through the greenhouses, then ducking under a hedge and squeezing your way under a forgotten gate, long rusted shut. Dean could barely fit through, and he figured that by the time he hit his next growth spurt he wasn't going to be able to manage. He also figured that by the time he hit his next growth spurt, they would no longer be in Smallville.  
  
With persistence, they'd figured it out, and that meant they had free reign over not only the castle's manicured lawns, but also the surrounding farms and forests. Neither Dean nor Ollie cared that they were trespassing. But Sammy found out what they were doing and he did care. So, in that way that little brothers had, he insisted that they allow him out with them, threatening to tell Pamela. The little snitch would do it, too.  
  
Alexander wasn't stupid, either, and showed up just when they were ready to sneak out together for the first time, simply because he could. Dean was pretty sure he didn't care at all about what was going on outside. He just wanted to be around the first sign of trouble.  
  
It kind of sucked because Dean had been hoping to spend some time alone with Ollie. The other two boys were younger and kind of immature because of it. He and Ollie were more alike. Alexander had never lost either of his parents (and Dean wasn't even sure he'd notice if he did because his mother hadn't come to stay the entire time they'd been here, and Uncle Lionel was rarely around), and Sammy had never known his mother. Dean knew Sam missed her presence, but it was the sort of hole that could be filled by any mother, not necessarily theirs. It was the reason why Dean was worried about all the time Sammy spent with Pamela and his tutor. They were both the kind of women who taught and cared the way a mother would. There was something in Sam that always craved that from whomever he could get it.  
  
Dean and Ollie had been thinking about visiting the Native American caves they'd heard about, but with the other boys along, they decided a change of plans was in order.  
  
"Let's go find a meteor," said Dean.  
  
"Meteorite," corrected Alexander. "They're meteorites once they hit the ground. You can't touch the ones that are in the sky."  
  
"Well maybe one day," said Dean.  
  
"Won't they have been cleaned up?" Sammy asked. "Dad kept saying they were cleaning up the town."  
  
"The bits that are in the way," said Dean. "But out here where no one goes, they wouldn't bother."  
  
"Cool," said Sammy.  
  
It took them the better part of the afternoon, and Dean figured their absence was going to be noted soon, and that they wouldn't get a chance to leave the castle ever again. It was too bad. He wanted to look around those caves. Maybe there'd be a story or something about some kind of ancient monster that he and Dad could hunt. That would be awesome.  
  
But about three hours after they started looking, the boys found a meteorite. It wasn't a big one, the crater was only about the size of Dean's duffel, and it had broken into pieces when it landed. The boys each took a piece of the glittering green rock.  
  
"It's so green," said Sammy, eyes reflecting green back at the piece in his hands.  
  
Dean had to admit it was cooler than expected for a chunk of rock. It was kind of worth the effort and the chance that they wouldn't be able to leave afterward. Dean set his piece on the nightstand beside his bed and stared at it as he fell asleep each night.

 

x x x

  
Pamela did notice that they'd been off the grounds, and they were all confined to Alexander's playroom until the guards figured out where the boys had gotten through the fence and patched it up so that they wouldn't be able to do it again.  
  
It was less confining being in the room than it had been back in October. The boys got along better and knowing that they'd done something they were being punished for, meant they took it better. That didn't mean that Dean wasn't still bored. He was tired of reading with Sammy and needed something to do.  
  
He looked over at Alexander and noticed for the first time that he wasn't reading a regular book. He had a couple of comic books open and was turning the pages with gloved fingers. Dean dragged his chair over. "What are you reading?" he asked.  
  
Alexander sighed and lifted the comic so that Dean could see the cover. Warrior Angel.  
  
"Is he like Batman?" Dean asked, reaching for the comic.  
  
Alexander held the comic away. "Don't touch it. It's a collector's edition."  
  
Dean sighed and pulled the sleeve of his shirt over his fingers. "Happy now?"  
  
Alexander opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out another pair of gloves. Dean grudgingly put them on. He didn't get what was so important.  
  
"He's nothing like Batman," said Alexander. "Batman doesn't have any superpowers."  
  
"That's what makes him cool," said Dean.  
  
"He's just some guy with a lot of money," said Alexander. "Warrior Angel is special."  
  
"And bald," said Dean, looking at the guy on the cover.  
  
Alexander shrugged. "It's because he's an alien."  
  
An alien? If there was one thing Dean knew about aliens, it was that they were just as bad as monsters. "That's lame," Dean declared, dropping Alexander's comic back onto his desk. "I'd rather read Batman any day."

 

  
Thanksgiving passed with little fanfare since neither Dad nor Uncle Lionel made it home and soon enough it was December. December scared Dean with its complete lack of drama. Even when Dad finally saw what they'd done to their hair he hadn't minded. Dean, Ollie and Alexander were getting along as though they'd never been separated and though Sammy tried to bring them down sometimes, he was still the little brother that Dean loved and adored. Dean realised that if the demon or whatever it was hadn't gone after his mother, this was the kind of life he and Sammy would have had. But, he would have been Jason and Sammy would have been Jared. It would have been like now, but completely different all the same.  
  
Actually, Dean thought he might not even be close to Ollie and Alexander. Despite going to the same school and being in the same grade and sharing classes, it was obvious that the two of them had never gotten along. They only seemed to tolerate each other when Dean was there to tell Alexander when he was being too caustic and to stop Ollie from insisting that they all do what he wanted to do. And when Dean asked what had happened to Patty, neither boy could tell him.  
  
They had a white Christmas, spending the entire week before decorating the house, and they even managed to convince Pamela to drive them into Metropolis to buy presents. Sammy had been completely surprised and excited when he realised that Dean, like Ollie and Alexander, had his own credit card that he could use. Dean had had the thing for years, but Dad had given it to him for emergencies only and he had never had to use it in Sammy's presence. Sure, Christmas presents weren't exactly an emergency, but Dean knew that Dad would want him to make sure that Ollie and Alexander didn't think there was anything strange going on more than he cared about a few dollars. Sammy assumed it was Uncle Lionel's money they were spending, and Dean didn't enlighten him.  
  
Dad came home on Christmas Eve with his duffel stuffed fuller than usual, and Dean knew why when there were presents from Santa Claus underneath the tree in Alexander's playroom the next morning.  
  
Uncle Lionel didn't show up until the day after Christmas. Alexander didn't explain why he wasn't spending the holiday with either of his parents, and Dean hated both Uncle Lionel and Auntie Lillian a little because of it. They might not be Christians, but they could celebrate life and the winter season just as well... even if Dad did complain that because they'd moved the holiday to the solstice there were more old demigods hanging around, demanding sacrifices and making nuisances of themselves. Luckily, this year Dad didn't have to be the one dealing with them. And a good thing, too, because Sammy was always at his most annoying when Dad wasn't around on holidays.  
  
But Dad had to leave before New Years' Eve and that dampened the mood. Ollie loved his Christmas present of a bow and quiver full of arrows, and was warming up to Dad. None of them mentioned the fact that soon they'd all be heading away from here.  
  
Now that he'd stopped to think about it, Dean knew that Dad wasn't expecting them to stay here forever. Not when Uncle Lionel usually lived in Metropolis, and not now that every doctor Uncle Lionel could find had declared that there was nothing wrong with Alexander, and that he could go back to school. The only question Dean had was whether Ollie would be going back to school with Alexander the way he always had, or if he'd come with Dean and Sammy to whatever elementary school would take them. Dean hoped Ollie would stay with them. He'd meant it when he said he didn't want to be alone

 

x x x

  
"I wish we could do some shooting practice," said Dean. It was a good day for it. The snow had settled, and it didn't look like it was likely to snow again. And after being cooped up inside for the last week in a storm, he just wanted to go outside.  
  
"I think we've got targets in one of the sheds," said Alexander. "Someone could set them up for us."  
  
"Really?" said Dean.  
  
"Awesome," said Ollie.  
  
When they met up outside half an hour later, Dean realised they had different ideas about what 'shooting' was.  
  
"Is that a gun?" Ollie asked Dean. He had his new bow out and was wearing special leather archery gloves. Alexander had a crossbow. Dean was carrying his trusty .45 Colt. Sammy didn't have his own gun, yet, and Dean had gotten him to stay away by getting one of the cooks to show him how to make cupcakes.  
  
"Yeah," said Dean, embarrassed that he'd forgotten that he wasn't like other kids his age.  
  
"Cool," said Alexander.  
  
Ollie eyed him suspiciously, but shrugged it off, testing the tension on his bow. "We'd better get started before the light goes."  
  
Dean was sparing with his cartridges. He shot just enough to let reassure himself that he could still hit a target. Neither Ollie nor Lex wanted to sit through the long lecture about gun safety that Dean was going to give before he let either of them touch his pistol, so he found a composite bow for himself amongst Ollie's vast weapons collection and the three of them practised until it became too dim to see. Ollie was the best shot. But the one time Alexander let Dean try his crossbow, he got pretty close to a bullseye.

 

  
Dean usually liked January, because it meant his birthday was coming up. Dean was especially looking forward to it, this year. Even if Dad couldn't make it back, he'd be able to spend the day with Sammy, Ollie and Alexander and Pamela would make sure that there was cake.  
  
This January, Dad was in Minnesota and the boys were completely bored by everything in the mansion. They found no more ghosts, arguments, or hidden boys in the walls. The couldn't find a single secret compartment or hidden room. Outside the snow was building up against the castle and though new coats and other winter necessities had found their way into Dean's closet, they rarely went outside.  
  
It probably should have been a crucible of petty arguments and anger. Instead the boys worked together to entertain themselves. Having exhausted all the things in the building, they turned their attention to the people. It was probably Sammy who suggested it, but the rest of them were dumb enough to go along with it when he suggested that they spy on the staff.  
  
Despite whatever Victorian romance novel Sam had to have been reading to get the idea (actually, it was probably Sherlock Holmes), it turned out that the people who worked for Uncle Lionel did not do anything at all interesting. They cleaned and they cooked. The gardeners didn't do much besides hang out in the greenhouses. The security guards never spoke a single word.  
  
The cleaning staff were the biggest gossips, though. While nothing about whether so and so was having an affair with so and so ever interested the boys, it was interesting to hear about the things that happened outside their castle. In a town that was still struggling to pull itself back together, it turned out that there were a lot of things going on.  
  
But when they started talking about all the kids in town falling into comas, Dean started to think there might be a job for his dad in town. After that he found himself leaving the other boys behind and going into Uncle Lionel's library to look things up in his encyclopaedias. There wasn't much about Smallville in there, though. The town was too small and Uncle Lionel's library only had things Uncle Lionel was interested in. He had a lot of histories, mostly. But he got the local, state and national newspapers every day, and all the papers sat around for a week before the cleaning staff collected them to be recycled.  
  
Dean carefully cut out every article about the kids who got sick and arranged them all in a spare composition book. Dean wasn't exactly sure what made something supernatural, but it sounded like first the kids who got hurt in the meteor shower stopped waking up, and now healthy ones were starting to get sick. Dad was the one who knew about this stuff, so Dad was going to have to be the one to decide whether or not it was worth looking into.  
  
When Dean called his Dad he didn't sound like he was paying attention to Dean. He seemed pleased that it wasn't an emergency and even though Dad sounded worried about the kids who were dying, he told Dean that the job he was working at the moment was more important. Dean could understand that, but it didn't stop a chill from racing down his spine at the thought that something might be in the town, and Dad wouldn't be there to stop it.

 

x x x

  
Then Sammy got pneumonia. Dean had no idea how it had happened, since Sammy had barely been outside. But one of the maids had gotten sick the week before; Dean guessed she was still contagious. Alexander didn't say anything, but Uncle Lionel was mad enough that it sounded like he was going to fire her.  
  
The idea of going to the hospital for Sammy to be treated terrified Dean and he went to call his dad before Pamela could even get Sammy into the car to be driven to the hospital. (Which actually meant calling Pastor Jim and never actually speaking to Dad.) When they got there, the doctors refused to let Dean even sit with Sammy, but Dean refused to leave when Pamela tried to take him back to the castle. It wasn't safe here. Dean had to sneak into the cafeteria kitchen for salt, and then into Sammy's room. But as soon as he poured the line of salt across the doorway, a nurse walked into the room and destroyed it. He needed to go back to the cafeteria to get enough to draw a circle around Sammy's bed.  
  
But now that Dean was in Sammy's room right next to his unconscious brother, he didn't want to leave. What if the second he left, a monster came in and that unconsciousness turned into a coma? But if Dean didn't leave Sammy, he was more likely to fall into a coma because whatever was happening to the other kids was going to happen to him without the salt circle, even if Dean was there to see it happen.  
  
Unfortunately, when Dean went to get more salt he was waylaid by a couple of the Luthor security guards and bodily carried back to the castle. He was locked in his room with no way to help Sammy. He could only hope that Dad would get back in time.

 

x x x

  
When Dean woke the next morning, it was to Dad grabbing his duffel and telling Dean to get changed.  
  
"Sammy?" Dean asked.  
  
Dad looked at Dean and Dean knew that something happened. "Is he okay?"  
  
"I got there just in time," said Dad. "I killed it."  
  
"So it _was_ a thing?" said Dean.  
  
"Yes," said Dad. "It was a good thing you did that research. If you hadn't I wouldn't have known what I was dealing with when I got there." Dad paused and didn't look at Dean.  
  
"What was it?" asked Dean.  
  
"A shtriga. Sucks the life force out of unsuspecting kids."  
  
Dean shivered. "And Sammy's okay now?"  
  
"Well he's still got pneumonia," said Dad. "But we've got the antibiotics and he can rest up at Uncle Bobby's."  
  
"And Ollie?" asked Dean.  
  
There was a long moment when Dad didn't say anything. "He has a choice, you know? Because he doesn't know what we know. So I asked him if he'd rather stay with us or go back to school with Alexander. He said he'd rather go back to school."  
  
The air was sucked out of Dean's lungs. They were going to leave Ollie behind. "You can't do that," said Dean.  
  
"He'll be fine," said Dad. "He'll stay here until Alexander's ready to go back. You and Sammy will stay at Uncle Bobby's until he's better and I'll make sure that nothing will hurt Ollie. Everything will be okay."  
  
But for the first time in his life, Dean doubted his father. Ollie wasn't going to be okay because he needed more than books and schooling. He needed more than Alexander and a few wards. He needed Dean. And just maybe, Dean needed Ollie, too.  
  
"Is that everything?" asked Dad, looking around the room.  
  
Dean's eyes settled on his piece of meteor rock. "That's all," said Dean. If he was leaving Smallville, he wasn't going to take any of it with him.


End file.
